


red and unafraid (beginning to end)

by elfloversanonymous (asexuelf)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Abuse, M/M, Non-Consensual, Rape, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Trans Fenris (Dragon Age), coping fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 23:30:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18559303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexuelf/pseuds/elfloversanonymous
Summary: An uneventful day in Danarius' fortress, from the perspective of his lyrium wolf.





	red and unafraid (beginning to end)

**Author's Note:**

> i have mixed feelings on posting this, but i wrote it to cope with some tangled, complicated emotions, so maybe it will assist others as well. as a disclaimer and a warning: this fic contains scenes that are considered erotica. while i wrote the scenes to be horrifying, they may also be considered arousing to some. i give you full consent to feel that way while reading this and you are not obligated to feel guilt for those feelings, either. ive left anonymous comments on so you can log out and leave me any manner of feedback.
> 
> warnings for slavery, rape (nonviolent but still rape), abuse, and for something like brainwashing (resulting in the victim loving their abuser).

When Fenris wakes, he does not stretch and yawn and scratch his belly. He does not gaze at the shapes of light the window cuts to the floor. He does not think,  _ Today will be a good day. _

Before the sun rises in the sky to chase the room’s shadows into the corners, Fenris stands quietly from his small bed on the floor and readies his Master’s robes. He does not dare to presume what Dominus will want to wear - would never presume to command him in any way - and so prepares a few easy-to-grab selections and leaves the rest in open sight, hanging and ready in the wardrobe. Once that is finished, he tidies his own bedroll, blows imaginary dust off his small shelf of collars (gifts from Dominus, all beautiful pieces), and makes certain his small corner of the room is presentable. He then straightens Dominus’ desk, careful of the ageing tomes and important papers. When he has exhausted all his possible chores, Fenris waits for dawn to break so he may wake his master.

He kneels by the bed obediently and watches the window.

When daylight grows, Fenris crawls onto the bed carefully, takes Dominus into his mouth, and suckles gently until Dominus wakes.

When Dominus finishes in his mouth (or sometimes on the bed, if Fenris has displeased him, or elsewhere if Fenris has pleased him greatly), Fenris pulls at the leash questioningly, knowing he cannot take it off himself. Sometimes Dominus will smack him for being demanding, but today he unclicks it, untethering Fenris from Dominus’ bed so he can go and fetch his master’s breakfast.

Dominus has recently left it to the kitchen slaves to decide what he eats, so Fenris walks gracefully to the door without asking what to bring. Once the guards have closed the door behind him, Fenris runs to the kitchens fast as he knows how. The slaves there are thinner than he is and never look him in the eye, but they are quick preparing Danarius’ meal. It’s a Ferelden dish, today - something Dominus took to in his travels. He said he found it “rustic” and “charming”.

When the kitchen slave - Lula, Fenris thinks - hands Fenris the plate of hash, sausage, and bacon, he holds it gingerly over his forearms, gently curling his fingertips over the edge of the wide dish. The bottom of the plate burns him, but it will be much harder to drop this way.

His walk back to Dominus’ chambers is much more careful, both to keep the plate steady and to guide Lula (who carries silverware and a goblet of chilled water). The guards open the door for Fenris and Lula to pass through.

By now, Dominus is usually dressed. If he is wearing armor, then Fenris must dress in his own. If he is wearing fine robes, Fenris will wear either the armor meant for special occasions, an outfit of Dominus’ choosing, or nothing. If he is wearing house clothes, Fenris will be ordered what to wear.

Today, Dominus wears loose trousers and a fine, comfortable shirt, open house robes draped over him. He remains in his house slippers. He smiles when his slaves enter, but the reaction seems to be at the smell of food. Dominus is always hungry in the mornings, more so than in the evenings.

Fenris is allowed more leeway to speak than other slaves, if only because Dominus likes the sound of his voice, and so he asks, “Would you like your breakfast in bed, Domine?” to save Lula the breath and the potential lashing.

“Hm…” Yawning, Dominus stretches his arms above his head. Fenris is pleased to see his master in a good mood. Dominus’ moods can be unpredictable, but Fenris wants his master to be happy. Everyone is happy when Dominus is happy. “No, no- I have work to attend to. I’ll eat at my desk and we’ll move to the study when I finish.”

“Yes, Domine.” Fenris places the plate on Dominus’ desk, careful again of the papers, taking the silverware and goblet before gesturing for Lula to take her leave. She scurries out quietly.

Dominus sits at the desk and begins to eat with gusto.

Fenris holds his goblet for him, gently lifting water to Dominus’ parted lips when his master opens his mouth for it. “Would you like me in my armor today, Domine?”

Danarius hums around a mouthful of potato. “No, pet,” His eyes roam Fenris’ bare form, nude still from the night before. “We should be just fine today.”

Fenris nods his head obediently. “Yes, Domine.”

When Dominus finishes his meal, he leaves the dishes at the desk for the cleaning slaves and makes way to the door, beckoning for Fenris to follow. Fenris does.

*

When the day ends, and all of Dominus’ paperwork is finished, Fenris is led back to the Master’s bedroom.

When the door closes behind them, Dominus shrugs off his outer robes and motions for his slave to remove his house shoes. Fenris does so, practiced and simple, before storing them in their proper place. When he returns to his own place, kneeling at his master’s feet, he finds Dominus’ slender, greying fingers unlacing his trousers. 

Reflexively, Fenris opens his jaw wide and closes his eyes.

Fenris is soothed by the sound of his master’s laughter. Dominus is pleased, and proves it again with a gentle touch to Fenris’ cheek. “I won’t make a toilet of you, pet. Too risky.” He says, almost to himself, his quiet voice both amused and fond. “Fetch the chamber pot.”

Fenris does so, and holds it while his master relieves himself.

“Bath time, Little Wolf!” He says when he is finished. “None for you, mind. All we did was sit around in the office.”

Fenris puts the chamber pot in its rightful place, far in the corner, and moves quickly to grab Danarius’ bathing oils from the chamber attached to his room.

Fenris falls to his knees, as is his great privilege, and begins the slow and methodical worship of his master’s body. He begins at the feet, kissing first the arch of each, before rubbing oil into the whole of Dominus’ body, working upward as high as his throat. Fenris does not dare stand to do so, instead reaching with arms longer than they are to touch his master’s shoulders and neck. He saves his master’s more private regions for last, his hands gentle against the soft penis and precious jewels. Soon enough, he is finished, and Dominus is glistening with oil, skin slick under the dim lighting. When he believes it enough, Fenris takes the towel and ruthlessly scrubs the oil away, and the dirt of the day along with it.

Now, as is his great privilege, Fenris soothes the red-rubbed skin with long laps of his tongue, starting first at Dominus’ thigh. If Dominus is displeased or does not find himself wanting tonight, then he will say so, perhaps even slap Fenris out of the way dismissively - but he does not do that. He curls his fingers in Fenris’ hair and sighs contentedly, petting his wolf lazily. It has been a very lazy day, Fenris thinks. Dominus is right to feel so. Dominus works so hard, for the Imperium and for her people… He deserves this laziness. 

Experimentally, Fenris follows Dominus’ mood, matching his lazy petting with languid, almost sleepy licks. Like the feral wolf his master desires - like the feral wolf he is - he grooms his Dominus at his own leisure.

Dominus’ member takes attention to this. Fenris has pleased his master.

Carefully,  _ very carefully _ , Fenris skims the sharp points of his teeth against his master’s flesh.

Dominus freezes and when Fenris looks up in trepidation, finds an eager, amused smirk on his master’s face. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Dominus drawls. “No blood today to sate my Little Wolf’s hunger. And now he tries to eat me!”

Fenris almost laughs, but knows better than to make such sounds. Dominus is feeling silly today, playful after a boring day of paperwork, and it would be shameful for Fenris to ruin that now. When his thumb brushes against Fenris’ lips, he sucks it into his mouth and chews playfully (and harmlessly).

Dominus does laugh and then ruffles Fenris hair. “I’m too impatient for all this licking, Fenris. Lay on the bed.”

Fenris pulls off of Dominus’ thumb with a ‘pop’ he knows to be seductive and crawls eagerly to his master’s bed. On hands and knees, back arched, he makes a good wolf, but hones home the performance with a struggle to climb onto the bed. Dominus likes when he is an animal. He will be all that his Dominus desires - especially here. If he displeases his master here, the punishment is painful. Sometimes, he thinks he’d prefer a whipping.

Fenris presses his chest to the bed, face into the pillow, smelling the scent of his master, and spreads his legs, presenting his little flower to his master. He does not think that is the word for it, has heard other magister’s call it other things - cunt, pussy; once a man called it his rabbit hole and proceeded to laugh himself silly - but Dominus always calls it his  _ little flower _ . Regardless of what the name of it is, regardless of if Fenris is elf or wolf, he will bow his head to his master’s will and to his master’s intellect.

What master says is always true, even when it isn’t.

“What a pretty sight you make, my pet…” The bed shakes under his knees as Dominus moves to sit behind him. When he feels fingers against his folds, Fenris does not move towards or away. “Are you wet for me, Little Wolf? Ready for something fun to dim that hunger in you?”

Fenris whimpers. “Yes, Domine.” It is not entirely a lie. Fenris hopes he is wet enough to keep it from hurting. The drag of Dominus’ member inside him is a privilege, an honor, but devotion is not a powerful lubricant.

Dominus pets Fenris’ sensitive folds with a sure hand, chuckling when he brushes over the place that feels good and Fenris whines again.“Will you beg me for it?”

“Please, Master. Please take me, make use of my body, of your pet.”

“Good dog.”

And then Dominus is penetrating him, his cock spearing through Fenris too quickly, spreading his folds and pushing at his inner walls demandingly. 

No matter how many times he does this, no matter how he does it, it always feels… sudden. Almost surprising. Even on those rare, coveted nights where Fenris’ pleasure is first on his master’s mind, even after hearing  _ I’m going to fill you so well, my Little Wolf,  _ multiple times before it happens, these first moments of Dominus entering him always feel startling.

Fenris has become very used to this feeling and does not flinch. “Thank you, Domine,” he breathes instead. “Oh, thank you!”

Dominus laughs. “Oh, Little Wolf…” He grabs hold of Fenris’ hair tightly, pulling at his scalp painfully. He doesn’t thrust just yet, doesn’t pull out - he just remains where he is, his heavy balls brushing against Fenris as they breathe together. “Do you want to ride me this way, boy, or shall I take you like the bitch in heat you surely are?”

Fenris does not know how to respond. Too much time passes, and he grows afraid of Dominus’ ever-shifting mood.

He remains in high spirits, and tries again, softer this time. “What is it you desire, Fenris?”

“I desire you, Domine.” And this time, it is wholly the truth.

Dominus laughs again, a mean sound normally reserved for cutting remarks at parties, and pulls almost completely out before forcing his way back in. Fenris yelps, like he is made to. Dominus continues this pattern before losing his rhythm, his hips’ movements more shallow and more wanting. His hand pulls cruelly at Fenris’ hair, forcing his mouth open to cry out and howl, to proclaim his love for his master, to share his gratitude for this great gift.

When Dominus reaches under him and circles his fingers around that sensitive bud above his entrance, Fenris gasps and begins crying out in truth. “Yes!” He can’t stop himself now, going so far as to push his hips back against his master. Certainly he will be punished for his arrogance, but he can’t seem to help himself. “Domine,  _ domine,  _ yes, please, ye-  _ yes!” _

Dominus is not laughing now, only moaning out, grunting at the effort of pleasing both himself and his pet. Fenris is so grateful, so pleasured, and clenches hard around his master’s hard member to prove it. As Fenris milk him with his walls, Dominus’ hips stutter and his thrusts grow shallow, pressing himself hard against Fenris’ backside as he floods his pet with his seed.

Fenris shivers at the heat filling him. A magister’s seed is sacred, but Dominus has still chosen to fill a lowly slave with it. When Dominus pulls out, taking his hands from Fenris’ skin, Fenris moans at the feeling of it seeping out. He clenches again, to keep it inside, but it has the opposite effect.

Dominus swats his bum - happily, again. Not a punishment. “What a sight you make,” he says again. “So pretty, Fenris. My pretty whore.”

“Your whore…” Fenris breathes. “ _ Yours _ , Domine.”

“ _ Mine _ .”

And then Dominus flops onto his back and when the Fade takes him, begins to snore. Fenris was not ordered to get off the bed, so he stays, lowering his aching hips slowly, the lyrium pulling at his skin as his back protests at the movement. He throbs, in want and in pain at being used so thoroughly, but it is manageable. It won’t be enough of a problem to require a healer and for that too, he is grateful. When he ignores the hollow feeling in his soul, the cold that spreads through him that he has no name for, that is all that remains; pain and gratitude.

When Fenris sleeps, he does not wonder what the next day will be like.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for taking the time to read. i was going to write a middle segment, but i thought the fic worked better without (plus i just wanted to be done with it)
> 
> the title is taken from the song 'liquid smooth' by mitski, which i think is worthy of a listen.


End file.
